Saturday, June 26, 2021

The big lie

Freedom is a difficult concept to define. But what seems clear is that it cannot exist without equality. Master and slave are both bound by their respective roles. Neither is free. And this applies to all class and wealth distinctions. Inequality limits possibilities for everyone. Society is congealed in hierarchy, with the bottom under pressure to rise and the top fearful of falling. Celebrity and riches do not have the same constraints as anonymous poverty, such as hunger and cold, but they do not bring freedom. The chains may be made of gold instead of rusty iron, they bind just as tight. The wealthy can eat what they want and sleep where they want, but they cannot do what they want. They are the servants of that wealth. A voluntary servitude, but a servitude nonetheless. Their every action is commanded by a superior force. They are the slaves of mammon. As for the masses of wage earners, they must abandon most of their waking hours to the will of their employers, and spend their lives trying to catch up with the debts they have been obliged to contract, for a roof, transport, a washing machine, university, etc. The people are told they are free and equal, but they are just parts of a pyramid of power and wealth that rules them all and dictates their thoughts and actions.

The structures of profit capitalism hold everyone in a tight grip. Its necessities have become those of all humanity. And as capital accumulates, its profits take an ever larger part of the value produced. When capital accumulation is productive, its growth keeps the value produced in line with profits. But, when capital becomes increasingly financial, profits (interest) grow faster than the value produced. This means that the debts that realise profits must do the same. The inequality of power and wealth is reinforced by the inequality of debt. There are those who lend and those who borrow, and lenders are often themselves borrowers, but only the final borrowers, those who spend on consumption, actually pay the costs. This brings to light the inequality of investment and consumption, where some incomes allow for investments and others do not.

Capitalism denies equality and freedom, while pretending to be a promoter of both. Like some ancient god its rule is absolute, down to the smallest detail, and humanity is its servant. However, the structures of capitalism are built with debt, the present spending of future incomes. That construction seems to have no limits, but it presumes that future incomes will materialise in ever larger quantities. It relies on the idea that the production of wealth can grow to infinity. This notion appeared and progressed with the harnessing of energy, fossil fuels, hydroelectric, nuclear, wind, sea and sun. Before the steam engine, energy had been human and animal muscle power, with wind for sails and some water-mills. The capacity to bring muscle power together and its endurance had limits. The steam engine and other increasingly powerful motors broke that barrier. Tens, hundreds, thousands and more horse-powers could be assembled to run 24/7. The technology to produce boundless energy brought more inequality, between those who possessed it and those who were left behind. Over time, however, even the poorest nations joined the rush to increase energy production by all the means at their disposal.

During the past fifty years, the world's energy consumption has more than doubled. And its distribution has remained as unequal as ever, with a few guzzlers and many only accessing very limited biomass (charcoal for cooking). Over the same period of time, the world's population has almost doubled, which helped widen the disparity in energy consumption. The propaganda claimed that all would ultimately dispose of boundless energy. There were developed nations and developing ones, and all would eventually be in the same boat. The newcomers increased their energy consumption, and the leaders stabilised theirs, largely by outsourcing their more energy intensive productions. All seemed well, as millions climbed out of dire poverty. But the increasing energy consumption was based on fossil fuels, and questions were raised on its sustainability. First, would there be enough coal, oil and gas to supply the growth? And then, would the planet be able to absorb all that carbon dioxide? Presently, peak-oil, gas and coal seem a long way off, and greenhouse gas emissions are still increasing year on year. And global warming is resulting in a new and possibly fatal form of inequality.

Freedom is a vain word in an unequal world, for those at the top of the social pyramid as well as for those at the bottom. All are the servants of a monstrous system that always takes more than it gives. A universal bondage to the production of profit, with every muscle and every brain straining for that outcome. But the extra value obtained on the market can only be paid for with plunder and debt, and both seem close to their ultimate stages. The planet has been plundered to exhaustion, and debts have reached a summit that will be increasingly difficult to exceed. Debt slavery and an abysmal class divide are negations of freedom and equality, and they deny the pursuit of happiness. The private accumulation of capital has been a continual disaster. It is now approaching its terminal stage, and its collapse will leave a global wasteland ravaged by pollution, climate disruption and bankruptcy. And that supposes that nuclear warfare does not close the book definitively. All the lies about freedom and equality are being exposed in the glaring light of reality, but it is already too late to unravel the system and start anew. The only hope is that it goes out with a whimper, not a bang.


Friday, June 11, 2021

Two last straws

The system needs credit to cover its profits, that extra-value it gets out of the market. Along with imperial plunder, credit is capitalism's lifeblood. The pandemic put a damper on the demand for credit. People were consuming less, either because some consumption was no longer on offer, or because of the uncertainty of future incomes. The slack in borrowing was taken up by governments and financed by central bank fiat money creations. That money has been spread around to keep companies going and consumers spending. But the pandemic is now into its second year and showing no signs of abating, except in countries where “test, trace and isolate” has been effective, and where populations have been vaccinated at a fast rate. A return to the situation prior to 2020 has been promised time and again, though that seems increasingly unlikely. Even if the spread of COVID-19 with its present variants is brought under control in developed countries, it will still be circulating in the rest of the world and producing mutant variations, some of which will need new vaccines for previously immunised populations. This foreseeable outcome will transform the future beyond recognition. Effective travel bans will result from enforced isolation for all arrivals, and the general uncertainty will not encourage borrowing. Whole industries will crumble and capitalism will be starved of profits.

The pandemic is shaking the already weak foundations of industry, services and finance, and climate disruption is beginning to affect the food supply everywhere, not just in drought stricken parts of Africa. The temperate zones and the Tropics are being subjected to freak weather conditions that are ravaging crops. Food scarcity will push up prices and provoke an inflationary spiral, where wages struggle to keep up with the cost of living, and any gains result in higher prices. Inflation will make credit and debt more costly, while past debts will be paid back in devalued currency. With global debt at around three hundred trillion USD, what will happen if lenders decide not to renew it and want cash to move their investments elsewhere, or if they only grant short term loans at usurious rates? Non-renewals would provoke mass defaults and would crash the system, whereas usury would push up prices and fuel more inflation. Global finance has allowed capital accumulation on a gigantic scale. But it is all based on digital and paper promises of future payments that have no intrinsic value, and can become valueless overnight. COVID and climate are the straws that will break the camel's back. And, on the positive side, it could be the end of profit capitalism's dominion that has oppressed humanity and plundered the environment for centuries. Unfortunately, the ideology of profit has been so pervasive and has become so ingrained that it can pass off as human nature. To want more for less means accepting that someone else gets less for more. This is possible when customers and employees become an abstract mass of faceless individuals, a herd of sheep for shearing.

Capitalism evolved out of serfdom and colonial slavery, when the work force could be beaten and starved into submission. Industrial production and the fossil fuel revolution generalised wage labour, chronic malnutrition and extreme absence of hygiene. The bourgeoisie struggled against monarchy and aristocracy for freedom and equality. They obtained the freedom to exploit the world, and “equality before the law that forbids rich and poor alike from sleeping under bridges, begging on the streets and stealing bred” (Anatole France) (1). The working class became a strange, dangerous species, kept at a safe distance by armed force. The 1940s brought death, destruction and change. Total war stressed the importance of ordinary workers and soldiers. Their willingness and engagement were essential, and that could only be obtained by giving them a larger share of wealth and power, as well as a wider access to the middle-class through education. Soldiers moved up in the ranks and labourers learned accountancy, draughtsmanship or whatever, by mail and evening classes. As the war evolved, turning cold in Europe and warming up throughout the colonial empires, the opening up of education accelerated with old universities expanding and new ones being built. There was even a trickle-down to minorities.

The drive for education was a drive for technological dominion, the importance of which had been proven by the nuclear obliteration of two cities in August 1945. The war machine needed bright minds to stay ahead of its adversaries, and the larger the numbers going into the system, the greater the chances of producing the best. However, the ruling classes have always been wary of educating the masses, preferring to keep knowledge as a privilege. Even reading skills, not to mention writing, were restricted to a minimum until the press barons took control of information and needed a wide readership. Until the 1950s, higher education remained elitist. The masses did not need to know more than they needed to know. But, back in the 1930s, the USSR had upgraded education and granted access to its universities for all social categories, and had all but caught up with the technological leaders. Higher education for the masses was a success. It transformed the world at an unprecedented pace, with a continual flow of new concepts, applications and machines. But education is a dangerous tool that at some stage teaches pupils to think for themselves, to reason and to search for knowledge. That can lead to inventiveness, scientific discoveries and technological innovations, but it can also provoke a questioning of social structures and the distribution of wealth and power. In its early stages, education transmits the rules of grammar, spelling and arithmetic as absolute. Later, with physics, chemistry, history, literature and geography, rules are shown to have evolved over time or to have come from far away. They are conventions, and can be a barrier to a better understanding of reality. And, in most domains, they have constantly been transgressed.

Universities have always been trouble spots and students have often been trouble makers. By the 1960s, they were so numerous that their protests were disrupting the social order. Student rebellions peaked in the late 1960s, and were followed by disenchantment. Nothing seemed to change so other ways of living were experimented, breaking up and dispersing the movement's unity. Rural communes tried to subsist, most were short lived, and addictive drugs, mainly opiates and alcohol, took their toll, but the majority reintegrated the system as best they could. The psychedelic interlude was quickly wiped off the collective memory. There were some transformations, the slow road to gender and racial equality was opened, and colours replaced the drab black and white of the previous era. But the ruling class, with their profit capitalism and their war-machines, were back in charge of consenting societies. Thatcher and Reagan were the able propagandists of that return to docility.

Woodstock signed out the old world, with sex, drugs and Rock'n'roll, peace and love, and some mud for fun. Altamont signed in the new one with gun-power. The consent to “neo-liberalism”, where everything is up for grabs and profit alone determines decisions, was not universal. Armed constraint was till necessary, at home and abroad, as was a severe penal system. Both tended to grow in size, and lawmakers were always prompt in funding them and increasing their prerogatives. As market forces were unable to install any form of contentment, and as labour was progressively devalued by globalised production, growing dissatisfaction needed more vigorous controls. Population control has been described by Orwell, and an essential part is to restrict the capacity for thought. This includes a media barrage of futile insignificance and a reduction of vocabulary. Constant streams of sound and video occupy the senses, and words disappear or become unintelligible, “War is Peace” (2). McLuhan argued that a new medium had a hypnotic effect. His word was “sleep-walking”. The increased precision of video images and digital sounds had that effect, and TV became reality, inviting all viewers into its intimacy.

The consent to market forces blossomed in the last decade of the century, a cocaine induced euphoria predominated alongside garage bands and startups, while the masses seemed content with sugar, fats, alcohol and televised entertainments. The new millennium began with a hangover. The froth of the previous decade suddenly melted away. The dot-com bubble burst, apparent wealth was dissolved, and a few heavyweights picked up the interesting pieces for next to nothing. The concentration of capital was off to a new start. The following year, New York and Washington DC experienced their first ever aerial attacks. The newly installed president, who had mostly played golf up till then, put on his POTUS flight-jacket and declared a global war on terror, a sufficiently vague adversary to be potentially hiding anywhere and everywhere. America the beacon of success, the model of modernity, turned into America the warmonger, spreading death and rubble on its devious path. Big Oil was at the helm and intent on crushing all competition. Iraq, Iran, Libya and Venezuela were its targets, even Russia would be harassed financially. External war and internal repression was the declared policy, with total surveillance of the digital sphere. The wars dragged on at an increasing cost, and penal servitude grew into a vast, profitable industry.

In 2008, American banks were on the verge of collapse. Lehman Brothers fell, but the others were saved, “bailed out” by the incoming administration. The shock-wave battered banks everywhere, and government interventions became the norm. Private banks were recapitalised with public money, and nothing was imposed on them in exchange, other than somewhat higher reserves to secure their lending. The subprime mortgage crash demonstrated that lending has limits. But profit capitalism could not accept the evidence. If mortgages had shown they had boundaries, other domains of debt had yet to do so. University students and businesses would give a new boost to borrowing. But, presently, student debts have probably peaked. Based on high future incomes, their repayments are increasingly unlikely, and the burden will fall on governments that have guaranteed them. Companies habitually borrow to finance their productive investments, but more recently they have been encouraged to buy back their shares with debt. Considerable numbers of shares have been taken off the market and scrapped, while the prices and dividends of the remaining ones have risen proportionally. This transformation of shares into bonds is motivated by very low interest rates. Profits pay interest and dividends. If the rate of interest on bonds is lower than the price-to-earnings ratio of shares, the transformation leaves a margin of profit that is divided up among the remaining share holders. It also concentrates ownership. However, shares are eternal, whereas bonds have a precise term that may be long or short, at which point they must be paid back or renewed. At some time in the future, possibly quite soon for the earliest buybacks, lenders will demand their money back, or may lend again at a likely higher rate of interest. Companies may sell-back shares to pay off these bonds, or may renew the bonds at higher rates of interest. Whether it be more shares on the market or less dividends, share prices will fall. And those companies unable to do either will default on their debts, go bankrupt and possibly disappear.

Since 2009 governments have accelerated their borrowing, with a surge over the last year. These increasing budget deficits and Treasury debts should have raised interest rates, by the simple effect of supply and demand. But, in fact, interest rates dropped to historic lows because central banks were buying all the Treasury bonds they could get on the market, and some corporate bonds as well, thereby driving up prices and bringing down rates. Government debts are a constant upward march, only growth and inflation have contained their proportions relative to GDP. Over the past decade growth has been sluggish and official inflation has kept low, though the cost of living has risen considerably because of new additional necessities. After 2009, household borrowing slowed down and government borrowing accelerated. This compensation insured the continued flow of profits. And with the pandemic, the same method was just multiplied. In effect, central banks are printing money for governments to borrow and insure capitalist profits. Like the rest of capitalism, the process does not have a sustainable future.

Spending tomorrow's income today makes sense for an investment that will produce that future income. Though there is the tricky question of interest that presumes a profit. On the other hand, consuming tomorrow's income today merely means less consumption tomorrow. This obvious consequence has been masked in the past by rising wages and inflation, and by the vast numbers of potential debtors, when each new debt compensates the incremental repayments of several past debts. Consumer credit increases consumption up to the point where borrowing and paying back balance out. This moment of reckoning can be pushed back by renewing debts instead of paying them back, and even increasing them to cover interest payments. In the case of individuals and companies this is the road to default and bankruptcy, and lenders should be wary of it, though the subprime crash showed a blatant lack of such awareness. Governments, however, cannot default and are allowed to increase their debts indefinitely.

Obtained by getting more value out of the market than it puts in, capital's profits are paid with public and private consumer debt and imperial plunder. The main consumers are governments and their countless employees and, like other consumers, their pay more than they get and make up the difference with debt. Personal debts are paid back by the individual or by her/his estate after death. Governments are eternal, and their debts are perpetual. And though Treasury bonds have a term, they can be renewed for ever. Over the past year or so, household borrowing slowed down considerably, as future incomes became uncertain or stopped altogether. The profit machine would have screeched to a halt if governments had not borrowed massively in their stead and distributed the proceeds to everyone. The gap in private borrowing has been filled by public borrowing. And the idea seems to be that a post-COVID world will restore the growth in private borrowing. An idea that will probably not materialise. For a start, the pandemic, as its name implies, is global. A worldwide immunity, by contagion or vaccination, will certainly take several years, and the high rate of mutations could mean that the whole process of immunisation may have to start all over again. And the virus is extremely transmissible, which makes its eradication so much more difficult. COVID will not be going away soon, and during the various curfews and lockdowns new life habits have been forcibly experienced. For a majority, the only change was wearing a mask and the constant fear of catching the bug and contaminating others. For quite a few, it meant working from home. Depending on circumstances, that change was pleasant or harassing. But, for all those concerned, it put an end to the stress of commuting at rush hours by car or public transport. And “Casual Fridays” were all week. Meanwhile employers have reduced their office space and may not wish to increase it again, as it has brought down their rental expenses.

Even supposing the pandemic is brought under control next year, or the one after, the past is gone and cannot be retriever. The system of fuelling profits with debt has run its course, as have carbon dioxide emissions. Both have already gone too far, and both are part of expansion and growth. If COVID is just an interlude, pouring vast sums of public debt into the system might maintain it on its destructive path a while longer. But the new virus is more than that, and is shaping up to disrupt the capitalist order for some time to come. Long enough to expose its exploitation and fracture it irremediably. After imperial plunder, fossil fuels and debt have been the fundamental elements of capitalism, and both are close to there ultimate stages. The premise that a transition from fossil fuels to renewable electricity will occur some time before the end of the century is shown up as a fantasy by the numbers. In 2019 global consumption of methane (24.2%), coal (27%) and oil (33.1%) added up to 84.3% of all energy consumed. Hydro-electricity (6.4%), produced by daming rivers, is probably close to its maximum. Nuclear reactors generated 4.3%, and even at that small fraction are unable to resolve the safe, long-term storage of their extremely radioactive residues. Finally, from next to nothing two decades ago, wind, solar and wave or tide generated energy has grown to 5% of the total (3). For a replacement, that number would have to be multiplied by over sixteen, supposing energy consumption does not increase, which contradicts capitalism's growth priority. So far the growth of “renewable” energy has just accompanied the general growth of energy consumption and has only slightly mitigated the growing consumption of fossil fuels. Renewable energy is like fair trade and responsible finance, a good conscience for many and healthy profits for a few. The vision of a carbon free future somewhat similar to today, with the big motors that drive tractors, trucks, ships and planes converted to hydrogen or vegetable fuels and the rest plugged in or on batteries, supposes that the energy mostly drawn from under ground will be produced above ground. Vast expanses of solar panels and mirrors, and countless wind turbines whistling on the skylines will be necessary, as well as the capacity to stock electricity and maintain the supply at night and when winds are too weak or too strong. Renewable energy does not have the constance of fossil fuels, nor the ease with which they can be stored. The transition, if it occurs, will be a bonanza for the industries concerned, but it will be painful and costly for the rest of society. Land will be occupied that had been previously been lived on, or cultivated, or been left more or less to fend for itself. High-voltage cables will replace pipelines, and gas stations will have charging posts instead of pumps. Households will need more wattage to charge their growing numbers of batteries. As for industry, some sectors cannot survive without carbon emissions, but they could be “carbon neutral”. It has been estimated that an acre of solar panels produces on average a million watt-hours per day, and their efficiency is still growing. Supposing some daytime production is stored for nighttime consumption, it divides down to about 40 KW per hour. This would probably supply twenty households in the developed nations at present levels of demand, more elsewhere and certainly less if cars and heating are all electric. And that is just domestic usage, and does not include public lighting and the production, distribution and sale of goods and services. All together, an acre of panels may supply the energy consumption of about ten households. Some of these huge surfaces could be found by installing panels on all roofs and walls that are conveniently oriented. But the conversion to low or zero carbon emissions is such a prodigious enterprise that it will only be realised if energy consumption is considerably reduced. And it may be too late anyway.

All climate scientists have expressed their surprise at how fast temperatures are rising in the Arctic regions, three times the global average of one degree Celsius. This does not seem to have been foreseen by their computer models. The Arctic ice cap is not floating. It rests on the seabed, which means that melting ice increases sea levels the same as if it was on land. And all the melting permafrost is doing its share. Antarctica, where most of the ice is deposited, is warming at a more reasonable rate, probably because greenhouse gas emissions are concentrated in the Northern Hemisphere, and the atmospheric transfers between North and South are slow. Melting ice in the Arctic may have a small effect on ocean levels, but the increased temperatures are disrupting the northern jet stream and provoking unpredictable, unseasonal meteorological abnormalities. And as most of the world's population lives in the northern hemisphere, the polluters will face the brunt of the consequences. This is already happening and is not some end-of-the-century scenario. But it may just be the effect of the carbon dioxide emitted twenty or thirty years ago, as some researchers consider that to be the delay between its presence in the atmosphere and its effect on climate. While the world discusses reducing emissions, the amounts already emitted may be enough to push global temperatures past the critical point of plus 3°C. And future reductions cannot change that fatality.

Humanity has gone beyond the limits of pollution and debt, with the USA leading the way and enforcing compliance to wealth and power. The ideology of capital accumulation in private hands is backed by irrepressible military might, able to destroy most life on Earth in a nuclear winter, and forcing friends and foes to arm themselves, albeit on a much more modest scale. That ideology has been so successful in dominating the planet that it cannot conceive an alternative. If profit is the only determining factor, then all other considerations are swept aside as irrelevant. The primacy of profit has justified the worst atrocities inflicted on humans, animals and plants, and finally on the whole ecosystem that makes life possible in its multiple forms and total interactions. And all that extra value that has not been paid for needs debt to fund a “solvent” demand. However, profit is not capital's final objective. It is just the means of accumulation, of ever more. So an alternative to debt exists. Foreign trade or plunder can transform consumption into investment. The ultimate consumption that are guns and ammunition can be transformed into land ownership, the ultimate investment. And more prosaic consumption such as cars and refrigerators may be exchanged for valuable minerals. These transformations have been used for capitalist accumulation in the distant and not so distant past, and still continue. But foreign markets have limits to what they are able to transform, and homeland consumer credit is needed to absorb the growing supply of unpaid value. Capital accumulation in private hands has determined today's world, a desecrated planet and debt slavery. This has been its unspoken intention from the outset, but it was conveniently hidden by ideological and geopolitical masquerades, nationalist demagoguery and supremacist fantasies. And even now that the monstrosity is there for all to see, other circumstances are made to bare the blame. Other things that can seem disconnected from capital accumulation, such as greenhouse gas emissions, the pollution of rivers and oceans, immigrations and now COVID-19. They are blamed on the faults of humanity in general, not on the optimisation of profits.

Capital has nowhere left to go without infringing on other capital. Mergers and acquisitions allow the big to swallow the small and get even bigger, but they do not increase the general amount of capital. Vast wealth is moving around the planet in search of profit and is finding it increasingly difficult to achieve that objective. A similar blockage occurred over a century ago when colonial empires had finished dividing up the planet. Colonial plunder was not evenly distributed and favoured some national capitalisms far more than others. Tensions led to war, and by 1945 the industrial nations were largely reduced to rubble and ruins with the exception of the USA. America had shown the awesome power of its military industry in a total war that pitted nations against nations. The existence of nuclear weapons, fission then fusion, made that experience morally difficult to repeat. The Cold War that followed seemed to oppose communism and capitalism, an ideological struggle between freedom and servitude, between relative equality and the absolute power of wealth, but it was mainly about control of resources and markets. Who governed and how they governed was far less important than the insurance given to private investments. And military dictators were more easily convinced than democratic assemblies. Capital accumulation and profits grew and grew, just like the debts that realised their value. A century ago global tensions concerned the realised profits of colonial plunder. Today's tensions still involve plunder, but they are largely focused on debt as the major source of profits and a domain for investments. Vast sums are washing round the system, realising the profits of production but producing nothing themselves. A gigantic mass of wealth that will soon subside as it has no destination. More of the same to infinity is not a workable model.

1. “La majestueuse égalité des lois interdit aux riches comme aux pauvres de coucher sous les ponts, de mendier dans la rue et de voler du pain”. Le Lys Rouge, 1894

2. Victor Klemperer's book, LTI, is a fascinating factual account of linguistic manipulation during the Nazi Third Reich.

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_energy_consumption